


Who Wants to Live Forever?

by SoraMJigen



Category: Lupin III
Genre: Coping, Crying, Death, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Escape, For Science!, Freedom, Heist, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Immortality, Loneliness, Oneshot, Other, Reader-Insert, Science Experiments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-22
Updated: 2015-02-22
Packaged: 2018-03-14 13:35:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3412577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoraMJigen/pseuds/SoraMJigen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All your life you were stuck in a tower of science and depression. That is, until a certain master thief offers you the opportunity of a lifetime.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Who Wants to Live Forever?

Your father had poured his life into O.P.H.E.L.I.A. (Only Probable Hope of Eternal Life In Actuality), a preservation flower that held a serum extracted from rare blossoms. One drop of this serum would instantly grant the person immortality. However, the only downside to this elixir was that people kept aging and thus, reduced to walking, barely fleshed skeleton. It was a terrifying sight and it stuck with you for the longest time since your father had started this project in your childhood. 

Amazingly, after all this time, the man and his team had never found a cure for that ghastly sight. Yet most people didn’t seem to care about their appearance. They figured they were immortal, so what would their appearance matter? Besides there were always the wonders of plastic surgery and for those who had the right amount, were willing to purchase the serum. Those who had bought O.P.H.E.L.I.A. launched you and your father to the pinnacle of wealth, living in a private luxurious residence complete with every form of security. No one could purchase O.P.H.E.L.I.A. unless he analyzed every detail of the buyer’s background and believed their reason to be logical and understandable.

O.P.H.E.L.I.A. had a secondary meaning other than what it stood for. It was the name of your mother who had died from giving birth to you. You barely remembered her and pictures did nothing when compared to the lack of a mother’s hug or kiss. Your father’s embraces were warm, but at the same time, cold from devoting every single hour of the day to research. From day one, you were told to keep hush hush about this little project. Since then, your lips were kept shut tight about O.P.H.E.L.I.A., although overtime guilt docked in your harbor of a heart. 

Maybe if you hadn’t basically killed your mom, he wouldn’t have started this madness. This insanity of long dark nights where the Sun never rose and he kept you awake with trying to complete homework and finish another advancement (‘one more try, I promise!’ you could hear those words ringing in your head). Maybe if you weren’t born at all, you wouldn’t have to witness your father slaving endlessly over the machines and chemicals that you swore drove him deeper into lunacy. These thoughts would recklessly tear through you like a car in a palace of glass and you could do nothing, but submit to them and break. Your father never heard you broke or saw your tears. He never understood the throbbing thoughts in your head, multiplying like some sort of virus. When you tried to voice them they were silenced by some chemical explosion or a meeting he just had to attend to. It was after numerous attempts you believed it would be best for you to harbor these feelings to yourself. 

As you matured, your father delved deeper into his work, leaving you to fend for yourself. You were a teenager, you could cope with everything just fine or so he believed. Science was his child now, you had to be the grown up. But it was hard; it was so, so complicated to achieve that level of maturity at your age. You found yourself having mental breakdowns and often falling into depression. Attempting to be that mature at your age brewed with the haunting idea that you killed your mother. Most nights those thoughts kept you awake, studying every detail in your room. You didn’t have much of anything because you believed you didn’t deserve it and didn’t want much, really. After analyzing every inch of your room, it still didn’t help ease you into slumber. Rather, it provoked the thoughts more like a raging fire. It was only after two or three hours did they finally surrender and allow you to sleep.

Your condition worsened when people attempted to invade your home. Burglars, thieves, men in dark clothes raided your home through the nights and with them came bullet grazes, curses, and yells. It was hard to sleep after an invasive entry and you couldn’t cope with it some nights. Yet those were the nights where your father seemed the closest to you. With O.P.H.E.L.I.A. in a box at his side and you in his arms, you felt like that for once in your life, you were bonding with the man. Sometimes the invasions and threats were so terrible you were forced to move to even more secluded areas. 

On the last run, your father decided that you should be away from all this chaos and go to college to earn your living. It would be the first time you would ever have a normal life and after your teen years, you believed you could handle it. With this news, a wave of exhilaration overwhelmed you and for once in your life that you could remember, you grinned. A normal life awaited you beyond this scientific tower and you found yourself only inches away from a dream coming true. You started to think of the friends you would make, the clubs you would join, the jobs you would have. It seemed too good of a dream to live inside your mind and deserved nothing more than your chance to experience it.

However, fate, like an African Bull Elephant, is unkind. On the day you received your acceptance letter, you were confined in your room with the blinds drawn and no explanation. Footsteps tore through the house like a thousand elephants let loose from the zoo. A few of them attempted to break down your locked door as you barricaded it as best as you could. Some items broke in the process, but they were the least of your worries. As you tossed a chair into the makeshift mix, you heard a crash against your door. Forcing back a scream, you threw yourself into the depths of your closet. Clamping your hands over your ears, you didn’t hear when the thrashing sounds finished and when the gunfire began. You didn’t hear the shattering glass and the shouting of men as they ransacked the house like pirates who found a treasure trove. You didn’t listen to the far away cries of scientists and home invaders fighting as if their lives meant everything. But rather, you did hear the knock on the door followed by Matthew, the butler calling your name.

When you managed to emerge from your hideout, you saw a rosy cheeked servant clad in a dusty tuxedo. Silence and tension emerged from his aura and spread throughout the hideout and house like a quickening disease. It suffocated your heart and made your head swim as from the corner of your eye you saw some considerable damage done to the house. Bullet holes in the walls, knocked over pictures, torn down light fixtures. But then you happened to notice Matthew’s stony, blue eyes. Crow’s feet damp with tears that lined his eyes, he stared at you as though you were the last person on the Earth. He tried to smile to show his appreciation that you were alive, but couldn’t bring himself to do so. Instead, he grimaced and tried to keep his composure as he spoke in a grim tone.

“I’m….I’m sorry…your fath,” he swallowed hard.

“Your father was murdered.”

In your mind, the hopes and dreams you had been relying on were shattered into a thousand pieces. Those club meetings, those nights out, those strangers you would call friends – they all faded into the endless pit of darkness stirring in your mind. You would be unable to do anything normal now. You knew the old man wrote you into the will to make you head of the project. You were his child, you could handle it or so he believed. You remembered screaming so loud that day in anguish and rage, and silently hoped that your vocal chords would explode; an escape to break free from this new destiny you were thrust into. Feeling nothing burst in your throat, you collapsed to the floor, still shrieking. Matthew joined you, crumbling like a leaf in the Fall onto the floor and sobbing terribly while holding you.

Before and after the funeral, the newspaper rang out the title of your father’s passing and discoveries with every day that you lived. His project came to fruition just like interviewers who wanted words from you, new material to write about. You turned them all away and amped up the security to keep out those who tried to get in. By now you had build an impenetrable fortress of solitude and you were the ruler. It was a lonely and daunting task, but you had no choice. You were the sole heir to lunacy and now you had to dominate it like a deity. 

But as the days rolled on, you found yourself up late at night contemplating things that seemed uncharacteristic of you. Tossing yourself from the highest point of the house or hanging yourself in the dining room seemed like completely logical escape plans. You didn’t want this business or O.P.H.E.L.I.A., you didn’t want the fame, the fortune, or anything of the sort. You didn’t want to be Tony Stark in the middle of nowhere with nothing, but your maids and butlers to keep you company. You wanted normalcy. The idea of being in a college club with friends, nights on the town without having to looking over your shoulder, those wondrous ideas all sounded divine. They were your dreams that that mystery murderer had taken from you that dreadful night. Yes, you easily had enough money to go to any college you desired. But it would take too much time away from the project and business. You couldn’t abandon it and you felt obligated to finish the man’s work – find the cure for that aging malformation. Something pushed you to complete it and drop your life, maybe it was your father’s ghost. Maybe it was your depression taking hold or insanity slowly sliding in. 

Most days you would sulk about the house and not once would you enter the lab, knowing the scientists would easily bring you the reports as though they knew your exact location. You couldn’t escape them. They were like bloodhounds and you were the villain for not being in the labs with them. It was one trap after the other and you were the unlucky rabbit running into each one. With every trap your heart kept shattering until you swore there was nothing, but a lump of what used to be ‘feeling’ in your chest. You learned to live with this lump of nothingness as your mind became a battlefield for depression and science. Science would win. Science would always win. Some days, you willingly surrendered, not wanting to contend with another mental war. 

One night, you were awakened by a need to go to the kitchen for a glass of water. You could have easily gone to the bathroom for that, but something compelled you to go downstairs and browse about the house until you could sleep. Upon reaching the kitchen, you happened to notice something rather strange about the floor. It softly shook, as though someone lightly tapped Jell-o and there was no possible explanation. It couldn’t have been an earthquake, you lived far from a fault line and there were no earthquakes ever. There were no weather warnings of anything drastic that you had recalled and your feet quietly led you to the grand fireplace. 

“Damnit Jigen, can’t you make that thing quieter?!”

A whispered yell echoed through the bricks as your eyebrow furrowed. You knew of no scientists by the name of Jigen or had that particular voice. There was a gruff response, but you were unable to make out the words. What was even stranger was the fact that the statues standing outside the fireplace looked as though they had been not touched. Rather, the two female statues stared out into the emptiness of the house. Waiting for someone to come along and uncover their secrets. Those statues needed to be unlocked in a certain combination to even release the secret door in the fireplace. Quietly pulling down the arms in the proper order and unveiling the hidden buttons located in the statues’ eyes. Pressing them, you heard a gentle click.

“Shit!”

Another whisper. Slowly entering the fireplace, you pressed your pinkie to the finger print lock. A light flashed and the door gradually opened, revealing a crack of light in the laboratory. Someone was in there. Who would be in there at this time of night you had no idea. Grabbing a fireplace poker, you took a deep breath. You never had to fend anyone off and all the moves from those fighting and criminal programs you watched faded away in the blink of an eye. If you remembered anything though it was that regardless of gender, being whacked in the crotch was the best option.

Busting down the door, you proceeded to bolt down the set of stairs that led to the lab. Footsteps and mumbled curses grew louder as you quickened your pace. Your heart was ringing in your ears as your mind seemed to fade into one big, black pond. It wouldn’t matter what happened down here. They could take O.P.H.E.L.I.A. or even your life and for once you wouldn’t care. You just wanted them out of your house. No one should ever have their home invaded and if they did, the only option would be to fight back. The officials would help, but they would be late, and the robbers would be gone, having successfully made off with your property. You had to rely on yourself as you had done all these years past and for once, you didn’t seem to mind.

Your eyes widened at the sight before you. The lab was completely pristine. It was as though no one was in there and the scientists left it as clean as they normally did. Rushing to the container where O.P.H.E.L.I.A. rested, you didn’t seem to notice a shadow lurking in the corner, watching your movements. Blood pumping in tune with your heart, you hurriedly entered the password into a seemingly normal looking cabinet. Doors parted and revealed a small, silver box which opened to your finger print.

Inside the box slept an orange flower in bloom, each petal carefully and individually sealed with a transparent armor that was trimmed with gold. At the heart of this blossom was a teardrop made from the same material as the armor. A swirling potion of crush purple rested in the armor and upon looking at it, you felt that lump within your chest burst. Gripping your chest suddenly, your jaw dropped open as though a rush of anxiety dominated you. You had only seen O.P.H.E.L.I.A. once and that was when your father first created the serum. It was after that he did something you could never forgive him for and if you really wanted to in this moment. You knew you could take that gentle blossom and throw it to the floor, eliminating any chance of immortality for the future. And never again would that blossom resurface in your memory and maybe it would destroy any painful thought it brought about. Such sweet relief lied in your hands that could easily annihilate this delicate, little object. There was a rage in your eyes that you had never known before and now another feeling was emerging from your revived heart: loathing. Unadulterated loathing and with it sparked every single tragedy that emerged from this experiment. Ophelia lying in the Earth, your father gunned down by a mystery killer, the depression of your adolescence, the urge to end your life. All of this was caused by the multi-million dollar worth experiment before your eyes. You knew what you had to do. You knew what you wanted to do. 

Thrusting your hand into the box, a click was heard.

From the corner of your eye, you watched something glimmer with a pair of chocolate eyes. Eyes widening once more, sweat grew on your palms like moss as you reached for the fireplace poker. Gripping the weapon, you would allow no one to destroy the very thing that caused you all this misery. 

From the shadows emerged a man in an ebony turtle neck and pants. But his face, you knew from many, many news clippings and stories on the Internet. Those chocolate eyes, those distinctive black sideburns, that coy, clever boy smirk. The man who wanted everything in the world and wanted to steal it all without any repercussions. He avoided consequence like the plague, though eventually it caught up to him (or so you read). But here he stood before you, the one person you least expected to see in your house.

“You’re….you’re Lupin the Third,” your voice staggered as shock drowned you in seconds.

You had heard of the famous thief and now that you thought about it, you wondered why he hadn’t attempted to steal O.P.H.E.L.I.A. sooner. Maybe it was because word of it just came to fruition or he was still honing his craft in the past. It was mystery that you knew couldn’t be solved because you didn’t live inside the master thief’s head. Eyeing you up and down as though he was trying to remember you, he smiled softly when the idea clicked. 

“You’re the scientist’s child, aren’t you?”

Nodding slowly, you watched Lupin light up a cigarette and take a long drag. He was like an uninvited house guest who decided to show up, completely unannounced and was making himself at home. You wondered if he would ask for a glass of wine or some sort of meal; you cringed at the thought. Such a pest and yet he was rather handsome. Shaking off that sudden observation, you watched him remain as still as a statue doing nothing, but smoking that nicotine stick. 

“How….how did you find out about this project,” you stammered, watching the suave gentleman lean against the wall.

“It wasn’t that hard.”

“Not if you have the right resources,” the debonair man grinned wildly and made your heart warm.

“Listen…,” you started.

“You don’t want it.”

“Eh?”

“You don’t want this.”

“And why’s that?”

“It’s incomplete.”

“Oh?”

“See….anyone who takes the serum proceeds to age further and further, the more they get old. So by the time they’re like….150 or something they look like skeletons with dragging skin.”

“Well that’s a scary thought,” Lupin smirked. 

“Y-yeah….”

Maybe he could take it. Maybe he could take this abomination away from you and with it, every memory and pain would be eliminated. What an even sweeter relief, you believed; to never lay eyes on that thing and its powers. For it to be out of sight and out of mind, with no dirt on your hands if you continued to smash it would be good for you. No one would turn you in, no one would blame you. You would walk away easily. It was victory and you could taste it.

“Wait.”

“Hmmm?”

“Second thought, take it. Take it and maybe it’ll make everything normal.”

“Everything….normal?” He laughed.

“Oh, but nothing is normal! It’s overrated, anyway.”

“But…but that’s what I want!” 

For some reason your voice croaked and quivered which spread throughout your entire body. It was a warm shiver that made you weak in the knees and your face heavy, as though someone decided to place anvils on your eyelids. Rimmed with your tears, you quickly hid your face with your hands. The fireplace poker struck the floor and rattled loudly as you cursed to yourself. Scientists and servants would be down here before you knew it and you did not want anyone to see you like this. All these years you were strong because you knew how to hide. You could hide again, you could recover, but this time, your mind refused to let you do so. Uncertain as to why, you could feel your head start to spin and warm and some ghost punch you constantly in the chest without any intent of stopping.

“I want to be normal! I want to be a normal person! I want my mom back, I want this serum gone, I want to die at a normal age, and not hang around to look like the walking dead!”

Lupin’s eyes widened, watching you break. He knew the history behind O.P.H.E.L.I.A., but he figured that you had left the house to pursue your life. He believed you had grown to stray away from science and strike it somewhere in the world. That you had disappeared into the sea of education, like any other your age, but instead he was proven wrong. He could understand why though as each reason shined brilliantly in his head. You felt as though you owed it to your father and mother, you felt pressured, you were confused, you had nowhere else to go, you were scared, you were depressed. There were so many reasons that stood out to Lupin and made him understand you further. While he couldn’t comprehend the entirety of you (not knowing your relationship with your father), he could see in your trembling frame that you had suffered more than he could ever imagine.

“You were a test dummy,” he murmured beneath his breath, understanding it all now. 

Lupin had stumbled upon these situations tons of times and it seemed that the younger the subjects were, the more his heart broke. They were children, teenagers, and woman on the cusp of adulthood. Each one of them shattered his heart, to think that someone would do such a thing. Some of them had tried to kill him in the past, but he paid no mind to it, knowing that it was the result of the experimentation. Lupin would try to snap them out of it and while it worked for some, others he had no choice but to use the Walter. It was a painful moment and times, he couldn’t even bring himself to do it. He distinctly recalled a situation like that, a woman, the love of his life had been subjected to her father’s unruly neural experiment. She had tried to kill him, but was killed by Jigen who claimed she left him no choice. 

Looking at you, you were still so young. You had so many dreams to obtain and fulfill. By now his smirk had faded and you were on your knees, crying rather hard as though you had bottled years behind those eyes. Stored emotions in your heart that were never fully unleashed, but probably buried like a thousand years’ worth of treasure. He waved off Jigen who had had his Magnum the entire time, uncertain as to what you would do. But now both he and Lupin saw that you were nothing more than a puddle of pain. Looking over his shoulder, Lupin nodded to Jigen who waited at the makeshift hole they tunneled into the building. 

It was a brilliant plan, Lupin had to admit. Digging a hole beneath the back garden and using a portable jackhammer to make the hole. Snipers and watchmen were easily eliminated by tranquilizers and brute force. It was so damn simple it was brilliant and was amazed no one had done this before. 

Kneeling before you, Lupin wrapped his arms tightly around your frame. Pulling you into a hug, you struggled at first, not wanting the hug from a stranger. Plus you couldn’t trust him, being a master thief after all. What if he stole hostages? He wasn’t the type to take hostages from what you read, but you never knew. And yet something about this man’s touch, the only touch you’ve ever received in your life (other than Matthew’s embraces), seemed so warm and inviting. No, that was the immaturity and you knew that. You had to shake that off before you completely succumbed and were taken away from your house.

But maybe, that’s what you wanted.

Allowing yourself to give into that hug, you did not break your hands from your face. Your mind joked with you, being the person to ever unleash your feelings to was a man who probably had many lovers. You were just another person in his routine of thievery. You would mean nothing in the end. You would be another lonely passerby or perhaps a lover. You did not want to be a lover, you just wanted – burying your head into his shoulder, he only pulled you closer. Why would such a man like him be so kind? Your mind raced for answers, but found none other than the grief you had pent up all these years. Rosy cheeks hid themselves in his sweater as you felt his hands at your back, softly stroking you in comfort. 

“Listen,” Lupin started.

“I’ll take it away from you on one condition.”

“Hm?”

“You come with me.”

The very words made you stop your sobs. A simple thief was offering you freedom and destruction of the sorrow bringer. Your maturity ached for you to be responsible, be sensible, be practical. Who knew the dangers this man brought with him, like ticks on a deer. He was a thief, he was bound to know shady people and have sneaky habits. Why he could practically steal your wallet without you looking. It wouldn’t surprise you to say the least. That maturity forced you to reconsider the situation at hand. To linger in the halls of luxury and be safe from this lethal man or run away with him, like a fairy tale. Another mental war resurfaced, but it was swiftly answered with an instant decision.  
You had been responsible all these years. You had to release and be, for once in your life, yourself. The person you were supposed to be. Not the person you were now. You had missed out on so much and now was your chance to reclaim everything that you deserved. Let someone else take over the situation, pass the responsibility on to another person, they could do it. They were adults. 

Nodding your head, Lupin grinned. The sound of footsteps on stairs broke your immediate happiness as you knew you had to act fast. Rising from your knees, you quickly grabbed the box, along with a few extra vials of the liquid needed to make the serum. Hurriedly, you handed the items to Lupin who nodded to Jigen. Taking your hands, Jigen led you up and outward. Through the garden you ran with the fedora clad man whose grin was like a wolf in heat. The moon shined down on him and made him appear wild, a rampant beast clad in black and your cheeks blushed. Your heart pounded, your mind raced. You couldn’t believe that you were doing this, but you didn’t care. You would be happy and as far as you were concerned anymore, happiness was far more important than success.

A hidden helicopter waited behind boulders on the shore as from the corner of your eye, you watched Lupin the Third catch up. Not missing a beat between running and firing his gun, you saw the box pressed tightly to his chest. Helping you into the helicopter, Jigen started the craft as Lupin laughed and flung himself inside. Lifting off from the sand, you watched as people and guards from the house observe the craft. In your mind you pictured them all waving farewell to you, happy that you were starting a new life. Smiling, you waved back at the mental image and before you knew it, you were airborne.

The humming of the chopper blades above the ocean was a lullaby if you ever heard one. Waves roaring into the dark splendor of night, you swore you were so high you could reach out and touch the moon, possibly grab a star in the process and wish on it. You would wish for a cure from O.P.H.E.L.I.A. coursing in your veins, but for now, that didn’t seem to matter. You had all the possibilities in the world to accomplish, you had opportunities crowding at your feet like the tide, you had open doors before your eyes, and you had every reason to be elated for the future. You were free from golden shackles of science as you leaned back into the seat. Eyes closed, you heard Lupin turn from the passenger seat and speak in that gentle voice that rumbled with excitement. 

“So, what do you wanna do?”


End file.
